


You're my lifeline but you're trying to kill me

by skullage



Category: Block B
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 03:33:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6736381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullage/pseuds/skullage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The look he gives Kyung seems to be asking permission, and Kyung, against all better judgement, nods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're my lifeline but you're trying to kill me

The promotions for “Toy” have officially ended and by the time they get back home the mood has turned dour. Jiho comes back with them to the dorm, follows Kyung into his room, and Kyung doesn’t even have it in him to make some crack about Jiho forgetting to pay his rent again. He makes himself at home on Kyung’s bed and for a minute Kyung forgets that Jiho doesn’t live there anymore, he looks so at home. He’s even brought beer in, that apple stuff he likes. 

“Want some?” Jiho asks. “I think this day needs some sort of celebration.”

Kyung shakes his head. The last time they got drunk together didn’t end so well and Jiho obviously doesn’t remember, otherwise he wouldn’t be suggesting it. The smell of apples hangs in the air and if Kyung closes his eyes he could practically feel the press of Jiho’s lips on his own, the taste of that beer on Jiho’s tongue. He takes a seat on his bed, careful not to sit too close. It feels weird but this is the first time since their kiss that they’ve been alone together and Kyung’s not sure where he stands, if he should say something or conveniently forget like Jiho’s done. 

“You sure?” Jiho tips the bottle in Kyung’s direction, like he can wear Kyung down if he’s persistent enough. 

A silence that Kyung wouldn’t call comfortable falls between them while Jiho picks at the bottle label and Kyung’s insides twist with all the things he’s not saying. 

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Jiho says, after another sip of his beer. “Our kiss.”

Kyung’s throat goes dry and he eyes Jiho’s drink. He says, “Oh,” instead of how he hasn’t stopped thinking about it either, how it’s been playing in his head on an endless loop the whole week. “You were pretty drunk, I didn’t think you remembered. I was pretty drunk, too.”

Jiho laughs, something soft and fond. “I expected you to deny knowledge of the whole thing.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” Kyung asks. A look passes over Jiho’s face that says he thinks even that’s a lie. “I almost did.” The eye contact they’re making is suddenly too much and Kyung glances down to the hole he’s worrying into his bed sheet. 

“Was it that bad?” Jiho’s forced light tone betrays what he really feels, and Kyung can hear the note of desperation. 

“My last real kiss was over a year ago. Any kiss is better than no kiss.” When they look at each other again, Jiho’s smirking. Kyung swipes the beer out of his hand and takes a long drink, long enough that when he lowers the bottle Jiho’s moved into his space, still smirking, coming in closer until they’re almost kissing again. Kyung jerks back so forcefully he spills the beer. 

“Jiho-yah, don’t do that. You scared me.” Kyung brings the beer close to his chest reflexively, like that might save him. 

“A kiss is scary?” He doesn’t look disappointed at being rebuffed. If anything, he looks like he’s rising to a challenge. “I’ve noticed the way you look at me. You wanted that kiss just as much as I did. Right?” His expression changes to one of uncertainty, as if he needs Kyung’s answer to make it all okay. 

Saying “no” would be a lie and he’s trying to break that habit, so he changes tack. “We’ve been friends for a long time. You really want to ruin that for a kiss?”

“I’d ruin anything for a blowjob,” Jiho says, and Kyung laughs despite the tense mood. “Who says we can’t be friends _and_ kiss?”

Kyung shakes his head. He’s thought about this in the last week and resigned himself to the fact that their friendship is the most important thing. 

“We’re just friends.”

“Friends who can’t touch each other.”

“That’s right.”

Jiho takes his hand away from where it was creeping towards Kyung’s thigh. 

“But we can still touch ourselves.”

Kyung’s hard swallows at the images Jiho’s words provoke. He puts the beer on his desk, slowly, stunned by what Jiho’s proposing. Jiho leans back against the wall, one hand resting on his stomach. Kyung watches the rise and fall of it with his breathing, waiting for the moment the tension snaps and one of them moves. The air grows heavy with it, as Jiho watches Kyung watch Jiho, gaze skating over his face, his lips, the way his throat bobs when he swallows. The look he gives Kyung seems to be asking permission, and Kyung, against all better judgement, nods. 

Jiho’s hand creeps down to cup himself and Kyung mirrors the movement, feeling his dick grow hard at the sight of Jiho massaging himself through his sweats. 

“You’re not saying anything,” Jiho points out. 

“You look pretty with your hair sticking up like that.” Jiho expression turns disappointed. “What am I supposed to say? This isn’t normal,” Kyung says, but he doesn’t stop. His jeans start to feel restrictive, but he’s not sure at what point he should undo them and get a hand around his dick, doesn’t know if he wants to go that far, doesn’t want to be the first one to cross that line. 

“Tell me it’s a bad idea.” Jiho bites his lip, looking coy, a look that makes heat pool in Kyung’s belly. 

“It’s a horrible idea. The worst idea you’ve ever had, including those dreadlocks. The worst idea anyone’s had.” He can see the outline of Zico’s cock through the material of his pants, can’t help but stare when Jiho gets a hand in them and touches himself. 

“Fuck,” Kyung says, and closes his eyes. He pops the button on his jeans and gets a hand around himself, going by touch and spurred on by the soft sounds Jiho makes. 

“Look at me. Kyung, open your eyes.”

Kyung does, and is hit by the hunger in Jiho’s gaze. He glances down to see that Zico’s sweats are pushed down his thighs, his hand on his cock, stroking. Kyung’s pulse picks up at the sight, at the thought that Jiho is getting off to him, and he’s getting off on that. He figures, fuck it, they’re already doing this, and pushes his jeans down his thighs, exposing his cock. 

Jiho licks his lips, stroking faster. “I’m almost there,” he says, biting his lip again but looking too far gone for coy, “catch up.”

Under normal circumstances, Kyung would be content to go slow, build up a rhythm and work up to it, but they’re on Zico-time now, and slow is not what this is about. It makes it hotter, more urgent is the need to get off, both of them watching the other, stripping their cocks like it’s a competition. Jiho spits into his hand to slick his way and Kyung mirrors him, licks a stripe up his palm and continues. His climax builds steadily and has him feeling like he has to work for it. It’s not been easy with Jiho lately, but the effort is worth it when Jiho’s hand, the one that’s not on his cock, drops to the space between them and Kyung doesn’t think about it, he links their fingers together and his orgasm hits like a punch to the gut.

He comes a second after Jiho does, spilling all over himself. Jiho had the foresight to push his shirt up, but Kyung finds the mess isn’t that high on his list of things to worry about after he’s just gotten off with this best friend. 

“I wanted to do that, you know,” Jiho says, as if picking up a conversation. “Get you off.” His face and neck are flushed, spunk drying on his stomach. He looks wrecked. If only his fans could see him now. 

“You kind of did. Orgasm-by-proxy.” Kyung breathes deep until his heart rate returns to normal and he can pull himself together. 

“Next time?”

The words snap Kyung to his senses like a cold shower. He reaches for the box of tissues on his desk and cleans himself up before he throws the box to Jiho. 

“There won’t be a next time. We’re friends, Ji, we can’t do things like this. It’s going to mess everything up.” _You can’t keep doing this to me_ , he doesn’t add. 

Jiho’s expression falls, then hardens. He takes his time cleaning himself up, looking down instead of at Kyung. Childishly, Kyung looks away, too. 

“So. That’s it, then.”

“Yeah. That’s it.” Kyung has to fight to keep the edge of finality in his voice. If he backs down now, it’ll all be over. 

Jiho stands and straightens himself up and chucks the tissues into the bin as Kyung tucks himself back into his jeans, thinking of fifteen better ways to say what he’s said that wouldn’t have made Jiho’s expression close over like that. He stands in the middle of the room for a minute as if waiting for Kyung to change his mind, looking too big for the space he occupies. Even now Kyung has to fight the feelings that thrash in his chest like a snake charm to Jiho’s presence. 

Jiho moves to the door before he stops, turns back around, and swoops down to kiss Kyung before Kyung has a chance to object. Kyung feels guilty even as it’s happening and his mouth falls open, he surges into it, sucks on Jiho’s tongue, and pulls back just as quickly. It’s over in two seconds and then Jiho’s closing the door behind him, leaving Kyung, once again, left to pull himself back together.


End file.
